


Not Better Left Unsaid

by therobbocop



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Awesome Maria Hill, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, Injury, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor Injuries, Multi, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Nick Fury Swears, Other, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Steve Rogers, SHIELD, Scary Nick Fury, Science Bros, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Being Tony, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, clintasha is there i promise, hammer is an ass and A.I.M can suck my dick, i missed 2012 fics, i'm gonna give the poor dude a name and just say it's Connor, poor shield agent guy, sorry - Freeform, thor and poptarts, writing is weird, you just gotta squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-10 06:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15285225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therobbocop/pseuds/therobbocop
Summary: The fight was over. They won, and Steve knows thatSo why does he feel like they're the ones in the dark?Call it intuition, cautiousness, paranoia even, but something isn't right





	1. Precautionary Rituals

**Author's Note:**

> In light of how far Marvel has come with the cinematic universe, I kept on thinking about how much I enjoyed the fics from 2012. You know...the ones with those head canons we universally accepted. After the first AvengersTM movie, there was so much left open, and I wanted to write something that could be read safely without the pain of more recent developments. 
> 
> This is canon compliant with the time period it's set in, because there is that nice little grey area between the first movie and AoU that I like to sit in and reminisce. Denial.
> 
> Also, it's my first work here on the site, since I never had an account, but please just let me live. I'm a mess. (lurking and reading since 2011)
> 
> Inspired by Bruno Major's "Easily" and "Just The Same"
> 
> Thanks for clicking. Enjoy :)

    S.H.I.E.L.D Lab #4 Level Access 7

 Code Entry, 29476

Location: Quinjet

“Steve? Honey? Look, I know you feel the need to get all Mr. Protective on me here, I really do, but I. Am. Not. Going. In.”, he emphasized with a pause between each word that somehow managed to come out daring yet completely decisive. 

Steve rolled his eyes once again shaking his head with an amused grin he couldn’t wipe off though he tried, because they’d been through this. Hadn’t they? Yep, this would make it one hundred and forty-three times now, probably. maybe. He stopped keeping track. Remembering such a ridiculous number was more of a playful jab to get through his boyfriend’s stubborn head anyway.

“You know we can’t leave until you do, and I don’t remember you ever being too fond of being on-what was it that you called it? Oh! that’s right”, Steve said snapping his fingers,“Fury’s Horseshit Express, _which_ is a reference I understand now by the way.”, he commended with an obnoxiously wide and satisfied smile, considering he had been awake for movie night last Thursday to watch the first two Harry Potter movies.

Tony looked on with a confused expression, like there was something completely obvious that Steve just couldn’t get. “Well the H in S.H.I.E.L.D had to stand for _something_... but **_fine_**.Maybe I’ll comply with this despicable travesty of a systematic-Although,” he turned and pointed towards the poor scientist, who manned the disinfecting shower, (which if you asked Tony, he would call a glorified high school water fountain) “It is to my understanding that this is a precaution...a process that I have been through many times; logistically, too many times to have smell like shit-”

“-Tony” Steve tried to deadpan but failed to prevent the rant he knew was an aimless fuse ready to blow.

“-SHIT, Steve. It smells like shit. Do you people even know how easy it would be to alter the molecular-” he continued without missing a beat

“-TONY”

“-What? All I’m saying is that if I have to be subjected to this poor idiot hosing me down, I should be able to maybeee i don’t know, not vom on contact. I mean Jesus Christ, it’s like the goddamn medicine you made me take. Everyone gets a cough Steve,  _everyone_. I could’ve dealt with it, but noOOOooo. ‘Take this’ he said. ‘It’s bubblegum’ they said...that was regurgitated bull penis wrapped in artificial ‘flavor’ and you know it Rogers.”

The lanky young blond agent twisted into a horrified expression, and couldn’t help but interrupt. “How would you even know what that tast-” The two men turned their attention towards the boy waiting for him to finish. However, even he couldn’t find the brain power to figure that one out. The kid had moxie. You had to give him that. Usually agents around S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters didn’t bother trying to keep up let alone make sense of what was going on in his partner’s brain. Not to say they were fat-heads or anything of that nature, but even Steve sometimes had to latch on to the end of words that got jumbled up in his head. 

“Don’t be so dramatic Tony. It’s only going to last a few minutes”, and as if on cue, Bruce walked into the medical lab and made a simple motion indicating he could take over for the young scientist. You didn’t need to tell him twice, that’s for sure.

“I’m guessing someone doesn’t want to shower?”, Bruce grinned slyly looking up from the various settings and pressure levels he had been tampering with. 

Steve looked at him hopelessly throwing his hands up in surrender before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just do me a favor. Help him see reason. I’m begging you.” Bruce raised his brows comically to that, but the amusement on his face was rather nice to see considering the aftermath of today’s activities.

“You’re talking about the same guy who, and I quote, said that diagnoses are suggestions, grossly overrated for his style.”, the scientist responded dryly but turned towards the man of interest, “Look, Tony...I’m tired, Clint is hungry, Thor is napping on the conference room table, Natasha is basically staring into another dimension, and your boyfriend here just reached the impossible with the starting of a headache. Do get into the shower.”

Tony sighed audibly but ultimately gave in, “Alright alright, I’m _going.”_ he was almost through the door. almost there, but then he paused, “Are you sure he can’t join me? Or could I maybe-”

“NO! Tony First of all no, second of all it’s incredibly dangerous, and third of all No No NO. I don’t need to picture any of that. Now go.” and once inside Bruce activated the hatch lock behind him to evade any other protests. Steve counted it as a win, and just couldn’t help the small half smile that found its place to the image placed in front of him.  Tony had been reduced to nothing but boxer shorts, and no matter what he would say about it, he was definitely pouting through the glass. Maybe it was just a little bit crazy that he was so used to this. 

Although it wasn’t, it _felt_ normal....like home. It’s not like he would have it any other way, and Tony always said that normal was relative and boring for most people anyway. This thing with them...this perfect balance could choke him up when he thought about it too long. Tony would of course call him a raging sap, but pretending to detest something you're already guilty of doesn’t really work. He was just as sappy and clingy and grateful as the rest of their little dysfunctional family, and the pair were complete opposites with this polarizing intensity, that only made them complete each other. The interesting thing was that as much as he brought Tony back to center like his own version of gravity, it was Tony that grounded _him_. He was just about the only one who challenged him with careful ease, tested him, treated him like a human being instead of some geezer, who embodied the wholesome vanilla hero they thought he had to be. It’s just, there was an almost childlike innocence he had. Like as if actually caring and paying attention to the little things were as simple as the roll of a tide.

Steve’s smile grew just a little bit wider. The man in front of him infuriated him, but isn’t that just the most ironic thing in the world, because the more Tony tested his patience the more he loved him and-oh... _oh._ That was new. Okay. Okay, maybe they hadn’t been dating that long, but that definitely didn’t seem to stop the train crash of a realization that hit him just now. Perfect timing too. Decontamination chamber and all. “I love you. I _love_ you”, Steve thought. “I fucking love you”. It was almost strange how natural it felt to think it, quickly taking residence as a mantra on loop. Saying it out loud would be another thing, but would Tony take it well? 

They’re relationship was going swell and all, but Steve was learning just as much about Tony’s insecurities as everything else. The man said he cared beyond the words themselves in all that he did. Through the sleepless nights down in the workshop, to the constant improvements in equipment and gear (too specific to detect if you weren’t looking), to the personalizations that had started popping up around the tower ever since they moved in. I mean it wasn’t just a coincidence that the common room cabinets just magically started overstocking with pop tarts, which also happened to be Thor’s favorite “Midgardian luxury”, Steve thought. If Tony said the words out loud, you would know that he meant it more than anything in the world, and Steve knew how hard it was for Tony to let himself admit it. 

Shaking off wandering thoughts, Steve walked over to Bruce and sat down in the nearest chair. It really had been a nasty fight. Not that it was overly difficult in any capacity but rather draining. The whole thing didn’t make any sense, and it ended way too quickly for Steve’s taste. He felt an uneasiness riddled with suspicion.

“Alright Tony, you have fifteen minutes left. Increasing gas pressure levels and commencing liquid treatment in three, two, one”, Bruce announced while slowly tapping away on the holographic screen.

“If I vom, the smell will improve” Tony yelled out, and although it was too muddled behind the glass to even make out, Bruce got the message loud and clear.

“If you puke, you have to sit in it for fifteen minutes, so I would advise against that.”, the scientist exhausted.

But Steve was too lost in thought to laugh. Something was off here, and the whys started to drown out his brain. Why did those things retreat so fast? Why does it seem like they were just a distraction? Another few seconds of brooding and then a flickering sound...

before complete and utter darkness.


	2. The definition of Intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intuition: The ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning.
> 
> Being right doesn't always bring relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I'm stupid and I want to clarify that all of this is taking place on the Helicarrier. 
> 
> I knew there would be something I'd miss, but at least now I know.
> 
> Also, I'm trying really hard to keep up, because I know how annoying it is to wait. If I leave it for too long, just let me know in a comment or something.

 

Meanwhile...

S.H.I.E.L.D Conference Room A2 Level Access 9

Code Entry, 19970

Location: The Helicarrier

 

“click”…”click click”…“cli-“ “ _Clint_!”, Bruce pleaded now after three failed attempts at some shut eye in those god awful swivel chairs. They were just waiting on Tony now, and then they could go home. So, it looked like they would be never going home. Guess it had been nice while it lasted the nine months they’d been there. That would make it around nine more months than he had expected, but between the clicking and Thor’s aggressive snores, Bruce was about two seconds from giving up on all that is good and moving far far away regardless. Clint stopped mid click to eye Bruce with caution, and then without breaking contact slowly returned to that god awful pen. The scientist groaned, but it seemed like no one was going to stop him. The only person who would be able to was—staring off into the far wall unfocused but steadily. “Alright well I’m gonna go see how quickly I can push this along. Try not to kill him Nat. I’m sure we need to keep him around for some reason. Can’t seem to think of one at the moment but it’s probably there.”, Bruce continued dryly while lazily sliding out of his chair to wander down near the labs.

However, the clicks soon became increasingly random and far between as Clint took in the woman’s gaze beside him. He knew that look too well. With a careful nudge of his shoulder she blinked out of it. “Hey…Tash what is it?"

The concern in her expression remained, but she turned towards him revealing an already darkening bruise near her right cheek he hadn’t noticed until now. “How many of those things showed up today?”

Clint was taken aback in confusion but answered quickly, “I counted forty-two, but I was at least ten blocks East of Queensbridge Park. That’s where they all were. Ugly sticky pieces of sh-

“Well I counted fifty-seven, and I was sealing off part of Vernon Blvd. Over a hundred other-worldly creatures ten times the height of the average man with considerable strength. I know when someone is holding back Clint. It was like having an injury and sparring with Steve. Does that make any sense to you? We were there for barely a couple of hours, and then they just retreat into the water?”, she asked with a quirk of her brow.

“I know what you’re getting at, and listen I was beginning to think the same thing, but there’s nothing we can do right now. At least not until Fury decides to get off his-

“-my _what_ Barton?”, Nick Fury barked laconically entering the conference room with nothing but a few loose files and a manilla folder being tossed onto the table. Clint was frozen into place with the white around his eyes now completely visible.

Natasha smirked, “He said nothing sir. I’m sure the fatigue is preventing him from using any of those big brain cells he’s got.”

The director scoffed, “Yeah I’m sure he’s got a fuck ton of them up there in that hollow white ass head of his. Barton, do me a favor and shut up until I’m finished with my work.”

Clint opened his mouth for a retort, but Natasha shook her head. He would’ve ignored it…he really would have. But there was something in her eyes. He knew she was serious about this, and he trusted her enough to do them all a favor and ease the tension a bit with a shrug of nonchalance. Although, it in no way stopped him from leaning over and resting his head on her lap as he traced his fingernail along the scuffs at the edge of the table. The small smile he got in return was worth it. He was a pain she thought, but for some reason it was endearing. Now if anyone ever tried reveal these thoughts, she would gladly use their small intestine as a makeshift choke hold, but just a simple glare could get that message across loud and clear. His head was getting large enough all on its own.

“Anyone care to inform me why my team is either hibernating or _missing_?”, the one-eyed man inquired looking around the empty chairs.

“Tony’s in decontamination, and as for the napping…", she paused to take in a certain sleeping norse god, "I can’t help you there. What have we got?”

“You’re telling me that Stark needs two of you? He’s not a child, and this sure as hell don’t look like the damn dentist.”, he quipped.

“Director with all do respect, the files?”

He sighed, “Yeah well I wanted to relay this to all of you considering the fact that we still don’t know who or what is controlling these things…, but here’s what we know.” The man swiftly leaned over the table sliding various papers and pictures towards Natasha’s crossed arms. As she began to read out the factual details, he continued, “What’s not on the paper is my assessment. I’m sure you’ve all discussed the fact that they moved Westward into the river, but they were gathering to a central point two miles South of that location. We sent two fighter jets after them with clear arial view, and then they disappeared…into thin air like they hadn’t existed in the first place. Now I got two military trained pilots reduced to their fucking catatonic shock plus their new existential crises and no leads. However, the part that concerns me is that we were able to track their level of depth…They weren’t diving deeper, they were for a lack of a better word ‘teleporting’ like the goddamn Jumper. Those creatures were communicating with a central source that gave them direct instructions to _leave_.”

Clint sat up and the two assassins looked at each other. Fury knew not to interrupt the silent conversation they were clearly having in respect to the possibility of a breakthrough.

Natasha’s face hardened when they both turned to the director, “If they were just being controlled that would be one thing, but they were wasting our time. It was messy and unorganized. So many of them aimlessly spewing and reeking havoc on public property doesn’t say very _direct_ to me.”

Fury glanced between the two a couple of times before nodding, “I’m not disagreeing with you, so you’ll have to understand why I’ll want you all to stay at headquarters once we arrive until we can ensure your protection.”

Clint whined needily, “Aww but our Coffee”, with a pout almost cartoonish with its shamelessness.

Fury looked towards Natasha incredulously rather than having to address the man. “Romanov, this tower of yours is spoiling him rotten. You aught to snap him out of it before I snap him. Motherfucker is _this_ close”, he emphasized with the close distance held between his right index finger and thumb. “As for your friends that are occupied, I suggest that-“, and before he could continue he was cut off by an exasperated Agent Maria Hill running at full speed to the door frame.

“-I’m sorry sir but we have a situation", she gasped out,"The mainframe security computers are not under our control anymore, and the destination course was altered.”

“What do you mean no longer under our _control_?”, and Fury was already out the door with Hill at his side and the spies flanking close behind.

“They’re responsive, but not to our manual command. It isn’t circuitry ineffectiveness, and the new course we’re on elongates arrival time from 1600 to 0800 hours; location: The Mojave Desert, Nevada. The only known location near those landing coordinates that we know of belo-”

“A.I.M”, Clint completed somberly but quickly shook his head in disbelief. You think _A.I.M_ is behind this?”, he all but balked.

Natasha remained composed but the furrow of her brows told a story, “They’ve been under the radar since Istanbul. Not that they haven’t been a threat, but they were nearly wiped out.”

Hill glanced back at the Black Widow over her shoulder, “Yes, but we did have a dead-end lead a few weeks ago, that they’d been coalescing with none other than Hammer Industries. It was a matter of purchasing tech equipment, but there were no transactions actually being made—“

Fury took in the state of emergency on the main deck. Agents were jogging to different computers and gathering intel until they could locate the virus, but it felt too chaotic for his taste. Referencing to their new destination he turned to Hill, “—What kind of stupid ass course is that coming from New York? I want every agent in the station of command rebooting all systems immedia—“

Complete and utter darkness, and everyone stopped where they were.

“I’m guessing this would be the wrong time to ask for a sandwich.”, Clint whispered among the pitch black.

 

* * *

 

 

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? GUYS?”, Tony tried and as quickly as it took for him to speak, the lights came back on revealing a heavily breathing Steve standing to Bruce's left.

Bruce didn’t have to hear what he was saying to infer what he was most likely feeling and raised his voice to reach the man, “I don’t know what just happened, but I don’t think it’s anything good.”, he said cautiously. The tone of voice he came back with clearly made it more of reassurance for Steve than a message for Tony, “Levels didn’t change, everything looks good. I’ll just cancel this until we can figure out…”, and suddenly Bruce’s tapping stopped, “ _huh_ ”.

Steve furrowed his brows worriedly as he was put even more on edge and looked down towards the screens Bruce was eyeing. “What? What happened?”

 

“UH BRUCE? BRUCIE-BEAR, WHAT’S GOING ON OUT THERE?"

 

Bruce’s expression went cold and if Steve wasn’t freaking out before, the man who was beginning to look downright scared, pushed him over his tipping point. “The process is following through as normal, but I can’t shut it off. The coding...it isn’t being overwritten, yet stopped complying to follow through with the intended task—it’s locked.”, he finished deflated.

Steve didn’t need to hear any more as he leapt into action. Running over to the hatch, he forcibly tried to break open the door, but all he managed to do was slightly dent the metal. Leave it to S.H.I.E.L.D to use reinforced scrap material, that he couldn’t get through. Finally looking up at Tony was what made his heart plummet into a free fall. He looked at Steve and then at Bruce with an expression that wasn’t frightened, anxious, or angry, he looked…like he was processing his fate. Steve had seen that face before in the calm before the storm of a fight. In the rare times when Tony’s faceplate was up, and those self-sacrificing decisions happened on the same play, Steve dreaded to see that look. It was him running the numbers for survival and then a brace in preparation, and it made Steve sick to his stomach. The eyes of a man too calm and too quickly accepting. After a few more useless attempts at the door, he let his frustration and fear slip into his rather controlled tone of voice, because this wasn’t the Captain speaking, it was Steve Rogers, “WHY THE _FUCK_ DO THESE HAVE LOCKS IN THE FIRST PLACE?!”, he snapped already knowing the answer.

And Bruce had tried to stay calm for Steve, he really did, but it was proving to be much more difficult in practice. He kept fiddling with the screens, “It needs to be sealed airtight to prevent any of the gases from penetrating through. They can be dangerous chemicals.”

“Well what happens if he’s in there for too long?”

Steve begged for an answer he knew he wasn’t going to get.

Bruce looked down to steel himself, “He...it could-Overexposure to the combination of gases and liquids will start to displace the oxygen supply. He could potentially lose consciousness, but the human reaction to lack of oxygen is to start breathing deeper and quickly. Inhaling too much while being overexposed will shut down his respiratory system's functions starting by burning his lungs.”

The words reached him distantly, feeling like the hottest of fires heating his face and the coldest ice freezing his joints. Completely stricken Steve choked out, “Bruce what are you saying?”, cracking towards the end.

The scientist met his eyes with a concoction of emotions, and seemed shocked at himself having to say the words out loud, “We have twelve minutes before that process begins and then after that—with the reactor I-I don’t know how many minutes after that.”, he paused to swallow, “If we don’t get him out of there in time, he’s going to-he won’t make it.”, he finished lamely.

And Steve’s whole world came crashing down.


	3. Fate's Cruelty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Be still and know that I'm with you
> 
> Be still and know that I am here
> 
> Be still and know that I'm with you
> 
> Be still, be still, and know"
> 
>  
> 
> "When darkness comes upon you
> 
> And colors you with fear and shame
> 
> Be still and know that I'm with you
> 
> And I will say your name" -The Fray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this guys...I promise there's more.

 S.H.I.E.L.D Lab #4 Level Access 7

 Code Entry, INVALID

Location: Helicarrier

 

“Where are you going?”, Bruce asked while frantically attempting to restart the monitors, when he noticed the super soldier moving towards the door to the lab leading to the main corridor, “Steve?”, the scientist seemingly failed to get the man’s attention.

“You said we had _minutes_. I’m-", he replied in a dangerously brittle voice as he punched in the code to unlock, but the light flashed red. Wordlessly, he turned around, and Bruce saw a new graveness unsettle into his expression. Putting down the tablet he was holding, Bruce tried typing in the code, but once more…two flashes of red. The look on his face was deeply weighted with vulnerability, no one would've been able to ignore.

Steve loved color. The depth and beauty that each shade held. With every ounce of his being, he tried to encapsulate the feelings they brought out in the sketches he drew, and red was always one of his favorites. Sure, it represented emotional intensity, love, danger, power, war, passion, but it was also the color he looked for in the sky. During a battle, the wave of emotions mustered into his soul to see those shades of dark cherry and deepened goldenrod painting streaks among smoke and destruction. For him, it was relief. So, to say that he “liked” the color wouldn’t be enough, but he never hated it until now. Right now things were changing, because the color ceased to represent anything but one feeling: helplessness.

Bruce placed a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder to steady the both of them, although it had little effect on their physical instability. All the while taking out his phone from his pocket to dial the archer, who picked up within three rings. 

“Clint?… _Clint!”,_ he grunted out of aggravation. “Listen, I need you to get down here now. Tony’s in trouble and the doors are locked. Can you hear me?" There was a pause, but only broken off words of confusion could be heard. "SEND HELP, CLINT!”, and with that he shoved the phone back into his pocket. “The connection isn’t strong enough, so we'll just have to hope he got the message.”

In a couple quick strides, Steve was back at a stock-still Tony's side, because there wasn’t time for a breakdown. He could do that once this was all over, and god would he take advantage of it. His lover would just have to put up with the smothering, and the tears, and the need for reality’s validation, because no amount of protest would be able to yank his nervous hands off him.

And then when it was all over, they could all go home and pretend, that it never happened. He could nervously pace back and forth in front of Tony's door before the man had had enough of his adorable apprehensiveness and before they knew what had happened, he would have his head tucked into Steve's neck and they could just cuddle in a mess of tangled limbs. He could let go, and Tony could take all of his insecurities away. Steve hoped it could be raining. Then, maybe they could let the hours slip away and just hold on to each other in the silence of the night. Maybe then the silence wouldn't be so loud. And there  _would_ be a time for that, but for now, Tony needed him. He needed him to be strong and optimistic enough for the both of them, so he peered as deep into his soul through those weary brown eyes as he could build-up the courage to. “Just hang tight okay? We’re going to get you out of this you hear me?…I promise. I’m going to get. you. out of this.”, his voice reassuring, earnest, and sincere as he was.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Rogers...not for me.”, Tony thought, and he wanted to cry back with it, scream it in his face, shake his sturdy shoulder of denial, but it would prove to be useless. It wasn’t like they would be able to hear him anyway, so he nodded. It was something Steve would need to believe while he still could, and it was better than arguing. Plus, if anyone in the world would be able to get him out of this, it would be Bruce and Steve put together. The sheer will of stubbornness and intellect packed into that pair was astounding to say the least, and it wasn’t like he wanted to die, especially here in this hell hole. Even if the smell _was_ the least of his worries, it still had a strong enough trash-ass smell to annoy him. So, he snapped out of the trance he had been in, and got to work on trying to find a way out through the inside.

“S.H.I.E.L.D servers don’t just go down. I’m gonna try something here, but we’re on our own for now.”, Bruce shouted over the back he had turned to the two, and suddenly every screen flickered to an image too hazy to make out. Moving into focus was the unfortunate face of a Justin Hammer clearing his throat.

Speaking of red, that’s now all Steve could see, and he glanced back long enough to see the engineer roll his eyes. Once Tony had told him about Hammer and his lackluster attempts to finish him off, he made an agreement with himself: If he ever had the misfortune of coming across the man, there would be more than just an exchange of words. Hammer spoke.

“Hey!”, he barked at someone behind the scenes, “Is this thing on? Are we live? AHA!”, he clapped his hands together excitedly and looked directly towards his awaiting audience, “Perfect. Okay well, usually I would start by introducing myself, but you obviously don’t have the time for that.”, he smiled knowingly.

“You know, partnering with A.I.M has been a really big win for me. I mean, I’m not a Nazi or anything, and it would be spectacularly stupid of me to trust those guys as far as I could throw them.”, his laugh grating to Steve’s ears, "But...I’m cutting quite the deal for myself. It’s the old, I give you money/my brilliance, and you help me exact my revenge. I mean, this suit is much too expensive to risk staining. To explain our little situation, it was important for them, that I disabled the mainframe system blah blah blah, which was a bitch to do really, but  _oh._ I almost forgot. Did you like your little gift this afternoon? All credit to A.I.M really,", he put his hands up in surrender, "gotta hand it to ‘em. _I_ don’t even know what those things are. Anyways, I saw an opportunity in my little observations, and now that my dear friend Tony is in _quite_ the pickle and I’m not there, you can’t hurt me.", he stated as a simple matter of fact.

"It's a fight you can’t win…or rather won’t win until your feet are on the ground.", he said and between clenched teeth admitted, "no offense to them of course, but I wouldn’t bet against you guys, C'est la vie. Overall, I really couldn't care less about what happens after that, because you won’t find me waiting for you on the other side. So, I think I’ll just stay for dinner and a show, and after Tony is as good as gone, I’ll just kick back.” Promptly doing just that, he relaxed back into his chair with a heavy sigh exaggerated by crossing his arms over his head. “protection _and_  blamelessly getting exactly what I want. To see an expendable run out of time? I gotta admit…sounds pretty good to me. Oh and Tony, I wouldn’t worry about leaving behind any mourners. I mean, considering that your parents are dead, your only family tried to kill you, and the few sane people, who put up with you do it, because its their job,” he winced, “I doubt the tears will fill my champagne glass, but its okay buddy. They didn't call you the merchant of death for nothing am I right?”, he snorted. “Nah, but really, have a nice afterlife man. I here Hell is a lot warmer in the Summer. Hammer out!”, he declared, but his face plastered with that triumphant smile didn’t leave the screen. The smirk fell as the businessman huffed, “UGH. Damnit John, could you cut the feed?”, and the screens came back.

Steve felt his heartbeat pounding in his throat, and when he came back to himself, he was beginning to feel a sharp pang from his fist. Apparently it had slammed through the table beside him. 

“Well-”, the trapped engineer mused, “knew the man didn’t care much for bullies, but he certainly isn't being subtle about it."

He was also most definitely _not_ thinking about how hot that was...not at all whatsoever. This is a serious situation, and he is **completely** focused...Okay, maybe a little distracted.

It’s not that he couldn’t be serious, but the light interruption eased his conscience, if just for a moment. It pained him too much to think about what could be. Steve had lost everyone, and it damn well wasn’t fair to him, even if he himself _did_ deserve it. God knows how many mistakes he’d made in his life.

Life…It was strange to think of it that way, because as far as he was concerned, it hadn’t begun until he met Steve. Since waking up after the Chitauri invasion, he had secretly been beginning to hope he’d be lucky enough that it would end with him too. But of course, he had meant it to be a sentiment for how much he wanted to be with him. Maybe the universe was using it as some sick kind of irony.

two thoughts…two minds……two people…that can’t help thinking of each other rather than themselves.

As his inner monologue played out, Steve brooded, “All of that for what exactly? A slimy smile and a fucking speech, that slows us down and wastes time."

He knew the man in that chamber, and he could laugh things off as easily as they came, but he knew how much guilt he carried on his back. It had taken long enough to make him feel like he was even worth being apart of their _team_ let alone trying to prove, that they actually cared about him.

But they were on a timer. A clock’s springs would click, the gears would jerk, and hands would change no matter what happened in the next few minutes, because time waits for no one.

It didn’t wait for Steve, and it wouldn’t wait for Tony.

 

  

* * *

 

  

When the lights came back on, Hill commanded the cautious gazes in front of her as an increasing commotion broke out. People were starting to realize, that all doors that had been closed off, were now impossible to unlock.

“I want every agent in this station of command rebooting all systems immediately! Nobody leaves their post.”, she pronounced whilst walking down the stairs to assist where she could.

Amongst the pandemonium, Fury was barking for intel, and the halls came alive with motion as not one agent stood still, “—and would someone please go wake up Thor! Tell him to get his ass out to the hangers with that hammer of his. If we can’t get back to headquarters automatically, then we’ll do it manually. No way in hell I’m going to Nevada today.”, his voice ringing out into the room as Clint's phone rang.

If anyone recognized the "It's Not That Easy Being Green" ringtone for Bruce, they certainly didn't comment on it. He stepped away for the phone call, Natasha trailing not far behind, and adjusted his hearing aid for a better chance at catching something. Although the words were too clipped and jagged to pick-up, his voice was high-strung, and Clint doubted his mind was playing tricks on him, when he heard the call for help.

“We need to get down to the labs. Now.”, he said fervently, but Natasha didn’t need to inquire as to why.

“ _They_ might not know what’s going on, but it’ll have to wait. What if they need us here? We’re not going to make our next move like that, Clint. Not until we know it’s the right one.”, she tried leveling with him.

“No”, he countered impatiently shaking his head, “It wasn’t like that Tash, something’s wrong down there, trust me.” He put a hand to the woman’s cheek that wasn’t bruised, and she leaned into it ever so slightly.

After a beat of contemplation and a purse of her lips, she spoke, “Alright, but I’m coming with you.”, and the archer smiled.

“Wasn’t like I was trying to get rid of you or anything, geez. You think so little of me”, he mocked a look of hurt.

“And how do _you_ suppose we waltz through the now impenetrable reinforced doors?”, she asked raising both brows in anticipation for incoherent sputtering. 

“You _do_ think that little of me...Tasha? moy sladkiy?” he continued. It was a rather pitiful attempt to replicate the nickname she often used for him, but he would admit to being slightly afraid of the gesture going South at record speeds. For all he knew, it meant jackass in Russian, but she only grinned. Taking that as an invitation to continue he carried on, “When have you ever seen me voluntarily use a door?” Barton crossed his arms and pointedly looked everywhere but at the super spy, who couldn’t be more amused. “I’m officially offended. You’re just being a mean and rude and-and _mean_. Yeeaah, I said it twice.”, he reprimanded and she cocked her head taking his glare head-on. “TO THE VENTS!”, he ultimately proclaimed, throwing a fist up into the air while attaching his bow back to his quiver of arrows. 

Pushing passed every body barreling towards their general direction, Clint took the lead. Eventually stopping, he crouched to quickly take the door off of the metal vent, and they both stealthily clambered their way into the small space inching forwards into darkness. 

She grew fond of how well he had the place mapped out. He could barely remember where his toothbrush was most of the time, but give the man five minutes up in the rafters, and he sets up camp burrowing like some kind of meerkat, an endearing meerkat, of course.

Turning every so often, they made their way further and further away from the sounds of hurried steps and voices they had left behind.

When he stopped abruptly, she had to hide a laugh, because these were tight enough quarters. If she hadn’t been paying attention, though she always was, she would’ve continued to crawl, hitting her head dead center of the target that was his bony ass. 

“We here?”, she asked as the first trickle of sweat made its way towards her left brow. It's not that the assassin was impatient (you _could_ go as far as to say she had a frightening amount of it), but she was starting to feel an anxious tension around the whole situation. Clint was too serious about checking it out, and it was beginning to make her think the worst.

“It’s been ten minutes. If we weren’t here, I would have given up right about now”, he said in annoyance. 

She waited as he repositioned himself to sit, and with one swift stomp, the vent's door crashed to the ground.

“Ha! I was right.” he beamed and had to bite down on the urge to arrogantly stick out his tongue.

Crossing to the other side of the opening, they both peered down into the lab, which was full of panic and screams. 

“This is worse”, she thought.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Please tell me that you’ve got something”, Steve said desperately as he examined the mechanics to the hinges of the convex door.

Bruce sighed, “I’m trying to bypass the virus here. If I can just access the coding for the chamber controls, then I’ll be able to at least turn the pressure levels down…It’s been at peak intensity this whole time,” and with that he shook his head. “God, Hammer must have been watching pretty damn close.”

“Yeah well the quicker we get this done, the quicker I’ll be able to…”, the artist started but could let them fill in the blanks. 

The incessant knocking coming from Tony pulled his head up quick enough to hurt, and he felt as though he was going to need someone to pinch him to prove this was real, but the man was _laughing_.

Steve anyalyzed the face in front of him before looking back at Bruce, “Is this thing supposed to make him loopy?”

But Tony simply rolled his eyes and knocked again while making manic gestures that…“Oh my god.”, Steve balked absolutely mesmerized in his adoration,”I think he figured it out.”

And wasn't that just typical. Of course he would be the one to figure it out before any of them could.

“Can you get yourself out? What do you need us to do?” Steve collected himself merely wanting to help.

Tony made various motions, but they meant absolutely nothing to him, and by the befuddled look on Bruce’s face, he clearly wasn’t getting the message either.

He tried to understand, he really did, but even with his super-hearing, he couldn’t make out any words. They were just too fucking muddled.

After a minute or two of frustrated curses and emphasized hand motions indicating they needed some sort of chemical substances, they got the gist, but it wasn’t enough. Tony threw his hands up in frustration, and leaned back against the wall to roughly shove a hand through his hair.

God, he just wanted to be able run his hands through those soft brown curls he loved so much. Would he ever get to?

“Fuck! _”,_ Bruce exclaimed in a fit of haste, because while Tony caught _their_ attention, they hadn’t noticed, that the timer had run its course.

“We’re out of time here…Tony can you hear me?”, Bruce asked briskly, and the man nodded, “Listen, it’s going to get hard to breathe soon. Just stay calm.”

He nodded once more in understanding, but couldn’t snap his eyes away from Steve. A mixture of grief and warning on his face, that things were gonna get ugly from here, but the blond determinedly went back to trying to unhinge the door. Just about growling in anger, he wondered how the hell was he supposed to help? It wasn’t like his strength was proving to be of any use, and not being able to do a damn thing about this was infuriating.

He felt useless.

Taking another selfish glance, he froze. Tony’s chest was rising and falling too dramatically, and his eyes had widened, while fog was beginning to cover the left side of the glass.

“Tony? Baby, listen to me, I know it hurts, but you just gotta hang on a little bit longer." He soothed, but Tony had stopped responding in any way.

"Bruce, I can’t do this… _Please_.”, Steve whined exasperatedly.

“I think I’ve got something just…I need—“

“NEED WHAT BRUCE? WE DON’T HAVE IT. THERE **_IS_** NO TIME!”, he yelled back.

Steve almost didn’t want to stare back at the man he loved. He was terrified that things had taken yet another turn for the worse, but he had to. It was like a horrific accident you just can't tear your eyes from no matter how hard you try to. He had to see him just to have the reassurance he was still alive.

Now, Tony was grasping at the reactor in pain, but somehow managed to push himself off of the back wall in order to take wobbly steps over to where he could be closest to Steve. Bracing himself with the other hand, his face became subdued with a knowingness. It was his eyes…telling Steve that it hurt. It hurt, and this was happening, and they were out of time, and it was real.

Steve shook his head and tried to force the tears welling his eyes at bay, while yanking back the lever as hard as he could.

There were terrible memories that haunted him. All the world would ever do was call him a survivor or a hero, yet all he could ever focus on was the fact that no one else did. All the pain, loss, guilt, all the times he tried so hard just to be fucking happy, and here he was again. Steve Rogers had a distinct fear for the good things he thought could never last, and the rest of them knew that, but everything had been going so _well_ these past few months. He washappy, and now the vicious cycle was repeating itself. The world was caving in.

Pulling with everything he had left inside of him, a terribly wrenched "pop" sounded, and he was stumbling backwards with the piece in hand. 

“No. no no no no no.” He cried, dropping the handle and started to throw frantic punches instead. It couldn’t end like this. Not with everything they’d faced and everything they’d been through.

“They hadn’t been dating that long.”, Steve thought back to his inner introspection, and his knuckles were undeniably starting to bleed.

He couldn't hear Bruce’s yelling behind him any longer, because all he could focus on were the gasps he saw. It had become too real too quickly.

Tony tried to take back enough control to offer one last sad smile as his emotions starting to become ill-concealed, and then his jaw slackened and opened-mouth breaths took over. Raising a tentative hand to the part of glass, that hadn’t been reached by fog, Steve protested.

" _Don’t_ …Okay? Just don’t. I told you I was getting you out of there.” He was becoming irate, “DAMNIT!”, and unbeknownst to him, tears had begun to fall.

Tony’s forehead was completely pressed up against the glass portion of the door now, and his eyes were wild and unfocused. It wasn’t until they became half-lidded that Steve started to panic.

"Baby? Come on, you gotta stay awake for me okay? Just please… ** _PLEASE!_** I CAN’T—JUST HOLD ON!”, Steve choked out distraught.

He almost looked like he always did, when three to four days of no sleep in the workshop had turned his boyfriend into a living zombie. It became a routine for him, and Steve never had to try very hard to pry the man’s hands away from a project, because he was just too tired to resist. He would smile fondly at the weak protests to keep working before the man would go limp in his arms to finally rest.

He hoped to god this wasn't the same thing.

“TONY!”, he cried

It didn’t matter how hard he pleaded, because Tony was slowly slipping through his fingers...fingers that couldn't even hold on to him, and all he could do was watch through his tear-brimmed gaze as the engineer shakily moved his finger toward the steamy glass, and paused. 

“I’m sorry” he mouthed, and Steve’s heart ripped in agony.

Then Tony started to write.

The thick scribble was sloppy and uneven amongst the steam, but Steve stilled when he saw the “I”.

Another beat

“love”

and his strength was failing him.

“you”

It was too much all at once, and Steve broke out into uncontrollable sobs gasping between his own litany of words. “I love you too. I love you. I love you. I love you”

“I can’t do this without you, Tony I can’t. I _won’t._ You can’t **_do_** this to me.”, he shrieked...but nothing changed. Fate was hurtful that way.

“Please don’t leave me.”, Steve whimpered with a voice so small and so cracked.

Tony’s hand dragged down the glass, slipping as the condensation disappeared beneath it, and he slowly began to close his eyes. 

Steve screamed.


End file.
